


Knowledge is Power and Power is Blinding and All I See Are Fairy Tales

by OneSmartChicken



Series: Drabbles [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, distinctly sterek srry, seer!Stiles, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneSmartChicken/pseuds/OneSmartChicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Knows.<br/>He Knows everything.<br/>He Knows all that is and was and can and could have.<br/>Until Derek.<br/>Derek is always full of surprises.</p><p>OR here have another drabble that I wanted to have more of but will probs never go anywhere with</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so a while back I had this character that--well it was basically Stiles in this fic, okay? And I never went anywhere with that character because, uh, I dunno I just didn't. I had ideas and plans and stuff but she was sort of not the greatest main character in some ways and it was just something I never pursued. But I just sort of randomly decided to put a spin on her as...Stiles. Written as a male like a normal person because--well honestly? Because Trilliath said genderswaps aren't really her thing and I don't expect her to read everything I write by any means, but--whatever I'm easily influenced.
> 
> Anyway, I like writing things with an air-headed??? sort of perspective so. Ugh hopefully it's not horrible is all I have to say.
> 
> Also yay tropes I love tropes there's tropes here I don't care and I'm not gonna bother tagging them. I feel the need to mention there's a fic quite similar to this, at least in concept, and I've read it so there may be very noticeable similarities. I'd link to that fic but I don't have the link and this isn't actually based off of it or inspired by it etc so whatever.
> 
> EVERY FIC I WRITE IS STILES-CENTRIC AND I DO NOT APOLOGIZE  
> I do apologize for the fact I can't write Derek properly though. There's a lot of OOC in all my fics and all I can say is--sorry?
> 
> sorry not sorry

Stiles contemplated his fingers. Long, angular, gnobbly. They weren't very attractive fingers, traditionally speaking, but he liked them. Because Derek liked them. Or he would like them. Stiles Knew. He Knew Derek would like his amber eyes--" _whiskey and honey combs and chocolate," he whispered against Stiles' freckles when Stiles said Derek's eyes were, "a constellation of emotions and tides, like inevitability and hope,_ " because Derek still thought Stiles only loved him because his visions said he loved him and Stiles needed to tell him all the ways he'd fallen in love, before and after they actually met--and would pull on his hair when he grew it out. When. Stiles asked them to keep his buzzcut for now though, since it made baths so much easier.

Sometimes Stiles got flashes, horrible images of futures where he and Derek never met, never fell in love. He hated those times, always struggled to make sure he never did anything that might even slightly lessen the chance of he and Derek meeting. There were futures where they met and fell and love but never did anything about it too. Stiles hated those the most. Could never understand how that him could be so obtuse, why he never just jumped Derek. But that him didn't Know.

This Stiles Knew. He Knew everything. Sometimes he forgot himself though, so he stared at his fingers, at the tendons and veins and knuckles, and made himself remember that he was not just visions and Knowledge. He was Stiles Stilinski. His father was Sheriff John Stilinski of Beacon Hills, California; he lived three hours away because the Beacon Hills Hospital Psychiatric Ward wasn't as good as the Salvation Preserve facility for permanently damaged individuals. the Beacon Hills Hospital Psychiatric Ward didn't have scenic views and staff trained to handle people like Stiles gently and tenderly. It also didn't have Melissa McCall, who Stiles Knew his dad should meet.

He was Stiles Stilinski. His mother was Claudia Stilinski, maiden name unknown, a fugitive in seven different countries with a laugh like sunshine. She was a Mute; a woman for whom magic and abilities of the mind meant nothing, rather than one incapable of speech. She used to be a spy, before a charming grin and a homey town drew her in like a bee to honey. If she hadn't been drawn in, she would have died three months later; that was the only possible outcome for her in a John Stilinski-less scenario. If she had never been a spy, 63.8% of the time she would still have married John, and 78.93% of the time she would still have had Stiles, and 97.4% of the time she would still have died before Stiles reached his twentieth birthday. In this scenario it wasn't sickness, unlike many others. In this scenario, it was a car accident. Stiles warned her, but she didn't listen. She usually listened, but she had just needed milk. They were having cake; it was Stiles' birthday after all, and you couldn't have cake without milk. It didn't comfort Stiles to know she would have found out about the cancer only a few short years after that if she hadn't died. Those would have been three very long years for him, after all, long years full of his mother.

He was Stiles Stilinski. His best friend was Scott McCall, whose father left in 43.7% of the scenarios(including this one), who was turned by a werewolf in 86.1%, 23.2% of the time it was a Hale who turned him, 11.8% of the time it killed him either by the bite or by some outside force afterwards--and in 99.4611% of all scenarios, Scott McCall met Allison Argent and they fell in love, the earliest occurance being when Scott was 4, and the latest when he was 36(and already married to Isaac Lahey-McCall).

He was Stiles Stilinski. He had gnobbly fingers and a lot of freckles and a weird nose. He liked things to be low-maintenance and had mixed feelings on surprises. He had spent the last 8 years in a mental institution, the last 4 at the Preserve, and 10 years ago his mother died. His mental health was generally sound, or at least to standard of living outside of a facility, and he was not a danger to himself or others(not in the way they meant, at least). But he very rarely lied, and had a habit of sharing his knowledge of Scenarios, because when they met at the Preserve, Derek Hale was 93.6% more likely to fall in love with Stiles. Plus, they had pretty good Jell-O, and Stiles knew that, in this scenario, his father's heart health would never be problematic no matter what roads Stiles took in the future. There were quite a few ways he might die that Stiles didn't approve of, but none would be helped by his presence. In fact, some would be caused by it. Six generations back on his mother's side, a woman named Geneveive helped found the original Salvation Preserve, quite generously, and just so happened to make the condition that they put full-effort into helping any of her family who might need it, no matter how far in the future, so Stiles' stay at the Preserve didn't even put financial strain on his father. John was sad, lonely, but he was alive at least. And Stiles needed Derek. Needed his love, as Derek needed Stiles'. Not only did they need each other though--there were a lot of lives riding on Stiles and Derek becoming a team, romantic or not. Lives that included his father and Scott and Melissa and a lot of Hales and various other people Stiles called pack in various scenarios.

He was Stiles Stilinski, and he had a plan. A plan for a pack. A very, very powerful pack.

"Ugh, this isn't even funny. I am going to kill Mom when I get out of here." Laura Hale sat down beside him and Stiles smiled as his plan finally got to the good part.

He turned, offering a hand. He did that in 96.7% of scenarios because apparently Laura Hale thought it was 'cute.' "I'm Stiles," he told her. "I'm not dangerous." Because that would amuse her, the werewolf. On cue, she laughed, and Stiles relaxed. It was a nice laugh. There weren't a lot of nice laughs at the Preserve. Just because it was scenic didn't mean it wasn't a prison.

"Laura," she said, shaking his hand.

"I Know," he told her, then got up and walked away to catch Jenna's chocolate milk; she really liked her chocolate milk, after all. Besides, Laura liked when people were interesting, and there wasn't much in the world more interesting than the phrase 'I know,' when someone shouldn't be saying it. Stiles should know. Or was it Know?

He was Stiles Stilinski. And one day, very soon now, he was going to meet Derek Hale and for the first time in his life, Stiles was going to be surprised. In fact, he was going to be surprised many, many times. Stiles wasn't sure he liked surprises, wasn't sure he liked the idea of _not knowing._

He couldn't wait to find out.

He couldn't wait for questions he couldn't answer.

He couldn't wait for questions that he didn't even know were going to come up!

He just.

He just couldn't wait.

Except he could, and he had, so he did. So he walked away from Laura Hale instead of demanding she call her brother and make him come _immediately_. And he didn't like it. But he kind of did. Because what came next? Yeah, he really liked that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random continuation of a drabble? Whatever you know you want it.
> 
> Seer!Stiles. That's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone requested a bit more of this and I used it as an excuse to jot down two more little chapters. This one's from Laura's perspective for unknown reasons. I'm posting the next and possibly final chapter immediately; neither it nor this have any beta'ing or proofing. I'm sick and headachey and awful and refuse to apologize _but actually I'm sorry for inflicting this upon you._ There's probably like a lot of ooc and grammatical errors and stuff I'm a terrible writer but you love me anyway admit it

"He's creepy, Mom," Laura Hale growled into the phone, curled into the little half-private nook for patients to call home from. There was a camera pointed at it at all times, but no one listened in. She tried to look crazy while simultaneously trying to look like she was trying to look sane. It was an uncomfortable experience all around. "I told you how we met, right?"

" _Yes, Laura,_ " Mom sighed, completely unsympathetic which was just unfair considering one Talia Hale was the person who had made Laura infiltrate a _mental hospital_ in the first place. On a "sneaking suspicion" too, not even like, an actual, logical suspicion. Just a vague suspicion that there was maybe an alpha werewolf in the Preserve. All because beta Scott McCall hadn't gone the crazy-omega route. Never mind that there were plenty of instances where betas managed to govern just fine under human alphas, often without even knowing, or that sometimes omegas just weren't crazy, or, hey, Scott McCall went plenty of places other than a freaking mental hospital. No, Mom insisted; Laura just _had_ to play the crazy person. It was revenge, she knew it. Just because she dinged Mom's convertible and all of her family were freaks about their cars. At least she hadn't scratched Derek's stupid Camaro; they would have probably had to throw down. She loved her family, but they had an illness. And it was related to cars. Laura, now, Laura was just happy in her truck. Her truck was her baby, and maybe she was a little weird about the truck, but she did not send people to mental institutions for dinging it, for fuck's sake.

"He keeps doing stuff like that, Mom, okay? He just--okay like, yesterday? Yesterday he just strolled up to one of the orderlies and goes, 'You didn't leave the stove on, there's a gas leak. Your hindbrain is sensing it.' And the orderly kind of freaks out but he tells Stiles it's okay and thank you for telling me and all that cause that's how they treat the patients here, but then, get this. He goes home and, guess what? He smells gas. He's thinking he's crazy--don't mind that noise I know this because these walls are not as soundproof as they think and orderlies are gossipy. Anyway, he thought he was just like, hallucinating, because Stiles is really convincing and, y'know, _usually disturbingly right._ But he figures, what the hell? And he calls a guy, and they fucking evacuate his apartment complex because, turns out? _Fucking gas leak._ It's the weirdest thing I've ever seen, Mom. And I'm a werewolf. And--" She glanced up and froze, then let out a string of curses that had her mother reflexively scolding her. " _Fuck_ , Mom, he's fucking staring at me. It's goddamn creepy. There are no werewolves here, please get me out of here."

" _I will soon, honey,_ " Mom soothed, and Laura relaxed; it was actually the truth. That wasn't just Mom's patronizing, maybe-I-will-maybe-I-won't tone, that was Mom's slightly-concerned-for-my-children-and-ready-to-act tone. That was good. That meant Laura was actually going home soon. " _Start toning down the act, alright? We don't want them to know it was fake, after all. Just a couple weeks._ "

"Fuck, a couple weeks isn't 'soon', Mom!" Laura hissed, then squeaked a protest. "He's coming over here, he's walking over here!"

" _Then talk to him, sweetie. You said he's usually right? Maybe he is. Maybe he's just got really good intuition. He's not exactly dangerous. I love you sweetheart. I'll see you soon._ "

"I love you too, Mom, bu--" and, click. Dial tone. Fuck.

Laura slammed the phone into place and whipped around to stare at 'Stiles.' What the Hell kind of name was that anyway?

Stiles smiled at her. Which was creepy. Everything about Stiles was creepy. From his innocent doe eyes to his pretty smile to the way he always looked at his hands like he didn't quite recognize them. That last part. That was probably the creepiest. The saying 'know it like the back of my hand' was a saying for a reason.

"I'm not trying to be creepy," Stiles told her, sounding amused, which was just 6000 times creepier than anything else he could possibly have said just then holy fuck. His smile widened into a grin, full of laughter and cheer and _fuck_ it was a good smile, she wanted to be friends with someone who smiled like that. But not if they were this freaking creepy. "I'm sorry. Really sorry. Like, really really sorry. I forget, all the time, how to be--not-creepy, you know? Mind if we have lunch together? I can practice being not creepy and you can make your creeped out face when I fuck up and maybe I'll eventually get a handle on things. It's good-fry day. Their fries are actually good on Wednesdays." He sounded like he was trying to tempt her. And it was working. She'd tried the fries her first day there and promptly thrown them in the garbage. No one ate the fries. Except on Wednesdays. She had kind of thought it was just a crazy-person thing, but maybe they were good on Wednesdays. That made sense. A creepy amount of sense. "See, you're making the face again and I don't even know why. Try using your words."

"Sure," Laura made a split second decision and instantly regretted it, but couldn't regret it that much when Stiles grinned like he had given him a gift. "But if the fries are gross, I'm never speaking to you again."

The fries were totally delicious. Well, for insane asylum food. They made it a daily ritual to eat lunch together because apparently Stiles had tried everything on the menu and knew which foods tasted most edible on what days.

Then one day he walked up to her looking solemn, and she held her breath, because Stiles only looked solemn when he was telling one of the orderlies or the patients something important. He sat down and reached out to take her hand, long fingers gentle on hers.

"Your mother will come pick you up tomorrow," he murmured. Her heart picked up, but his face remained somber. "If she does, there will be consequences. Call her and tell her to send Derek and Peter instead. Trust me; it'll go better." His face finally changed, morphing into a chagrined grimace. "And you're making the face again. I'm sorry. Really sorry. I wouldn't be being creepy except it's really important, I promise. I know you haven't told me your family members' names. I haven't done background checks or anything on you--you can tell I'm not lying, stop with the face and go call her." He stared at her for a few moments, then sighed heavily. "I can't call her myself. It wouldn't go well if I tried. Just...call her. Please. It's not like it makes a big difference, right?" He squeezed her fingers, then sighed again, quieter this time, and walked off.

Laura stared at her hand for a while. Then she muttered an expletive and got up to go call her mom. She told her word-for-word(as best as she could remember, at least) what Stiles had said, and Mom decided to send Derek and Peter--and Cora and Dad. Just in case it was a trap of some kind, although it didn't sound like she thought it was.

Stiles showed up all of ten minutes after she hung up, looking bright and cheery. "You called," he stated, even though she knew for a fact no one but the camera had been there to see. "Thank you. Come on, today they're having this really good cinnamon raisin bread with oatmeal for dessert and I know it sounds like weird healthy breakfast food but it's seriously an amazing dessert." He grabbed her hand and dragged her away, and she...let him. He was weird and creepy and knew things he absolutely shouldn't, but she let him drag her away to dinner and as she realized this, she inwardly sighed and resigned herself to a fate of being friends with Stiles.

At least he had good taste in food.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seeeeeer stiiiiiiiiillllesssssss
> 
> possibly the last I'll write of this universe ??? who knows ?????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah no proofing no beta'ing sorry not sorry
> 
>  
> 
> RowanFalar was like "what if he meets someone not affected by his visions" and I was like "yeah what if"

Stiles pressed his face into the window to gape at the outside world as he rarely did. He saw more of it in his visions than the windows could ever show him, preferred to lose his mind in fiction than peer into the distant treeline. But today was different. Today was--a blank. A day too full of possibility for him to know what might occur until the time was already upon him. And--and there was a true blankness, a dark spot. A blip. It was something he had once associated with cats, for there was a woman with many whose future he could never read. But even when there were no cats at all involved with her, he had seen nothing of her. And now, now he could not see even the car, saw nothing of Derek, save for in visions of Might Have Beens. It...concerned him, and fascinated him, thrilled him when he spied a black car drawing down the road and was _surprised_.

Derek stepped out of the car, and everything just...stopped. It was cliche and stupid and ridiculous, but it felt like Stiles' whole world had just suspended so that he might drink in the sight of the dark-clad figure his future was so tightly woven with. Even with the increasingly prevalent blank spots, Stiles could still see it, could still see _them._ The two of them, tied by an old and battered red string. Stiles' breath fogged the glass and he grinned, slapping a palm against it. Derek, the idiot, looked up at the sound and Stiles couldn't help but laugh. How the man hid his wolf from the world would ever be a mystery to Stiles.

It felt like he should be running to the door, yelling out familiar greetings and throwing himself into Derek's welcoming arms. The feeling was shattered when the Derek below him frowned, no sign of recognition in his features. Of course not; he had no idea who Stiles was, likely thought him absolutely mad. Which was fair enough, considering their setting.

"Stiles?" crooned a low, well-known voice, drawing his attention away from the car and Derek, both of which were darkening again in his mind's eye. He caught a flash of copper, and then there was Melissa, smiling gently and holding out a hand. "Your father is on the phone."

Oh.

He had forgotten that was also today.

"Oh," he supplied succinctly, as unsure how to react as he had been when it became clear this conversation would occur sooner rather than later.

Melissa smiled in what he assumed was supposed to be a reassuring fashion. He considered a different Melissa, possibly in the future, or past--she aged well. Ultimately most of her smiles were reassuring. He shrugged and returned the smile, as he generally did. It was hard not to return Melissa's many earnest faces.

"It does seem like he should be the first informed," he agreed cheerfully, and Melissa nodded along, as she generally did.

"It's good to keep your father informed," Melissa said gamely. She walked with him to the phone, then stood waiting patiently.

"Hi, Dad," he said into the receiver, and Melissa nodded in satisfaction before bustling off to do something where she could watch him without necessarily eavesdropping. She probably wouldn't even listen in. Stiles looked forward to her and John becoming an item. They suited each other.

"Hey, son," John sighed, sounding older than he was. He still looked about the right age though, if a little too tired around the eyes. "How are you?"

"I've decided to stop being a patient here," he stated directly, never one to beat around the bush. "It turned out to be a longer stay than I wanted anyway. Laura Hale took a long time to show up, but apparently I was the catalyst that made her presence warranted. Ironic, huh? That's probably not helping my case, but as you're aware I've never been as lacking in the sanity department as the doctors say. Oh, I have to go now. I think Derek's here. I can't tell though. It's weird. I don't really know what to expect. Isn't that exciting? It's pretty exciting, although I guess maybe you wouldn't see it the same way. It's nice to be surprised when that's something that never happens. It's also sort of awful. I'm really hoping this doesn't lead to one of the futures where I die before I marry Derek, I'd hate for that to happen." Stiles hummed, supposing he should sound more concerned. He should also probably not have still been going on about his supposed 'delusions,' but he had been telling his parents of Derek and the Hales since he could talk; it hardly seemed prudent to stop after all this time.

"Stiles? Are you alright?" John sounded more than slightly worried. Stiles smiled at the look on his face.

"It'll probably be fine. I'll call you when I've convinced them to release me. It shouldn't take too long, but they'll probably need you to sign off. Although I am legal now, aren't I? So maybe they won't require it. I don't know. Ha! I don't know! I wonder what that means. I love you, Dad." He was still chuckling to himself when he hung up. Catching Melissa's eye, he flashed her a grin, then trotted off to find his newest friend and his future family members. Because this was definitely a reality in which he and Derek were eventually wed. He would accept no alternative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was like "I should stick to canon some" and then I was like "no that sounds boring let's bring Lydia in" because Stydia is my brotp and I cannot escape the strawberry blonde goddess. I hope you all enjoyed this, even if it's probably ridiculous and horrible and ugh I blame everything on illness. But for those that possibly craved more seer!stiles I hope this pleased you?
> 
> I'll probably write more if anyone asks, let's face it.

**Author's Note:**

> so the title doesn't make sense no but there was sort of supposed to be more to it but I couldn't fit it into a title so you got that
> 
> uh I dunno I really like this universe and I might go somewhere with it eventually or maybe someone else will  
> it could be dark or ridiculous or just weird or I dunno there's a lot of directions it could go in and  
> yeah  
> there's little things I didn't explain that I'd like to make a follow-up chapter explaining, if I get the chance(like some more about Scott and why Laura's in "The Preserve"(ha get it?)) but yeah I dunno stuff yay whee


End file.
